Just Don't Walk Away
by 101Witch101
Summary: Posiedon and Sally's relationship is a very unique one, that I have had close to my heart. This is just the story of their relationship from the time they meet to the time she married Paul. Their thoughts, their emotions, their story.
1. Breaking the Rules

**I'm really surprised that there isn't a lot of FanFiction on Poseidon and Sally. Anyways, I just wanted to write a series of one-shots, each chapter discussing one moment in their really weird relationship. Enojy!**

Just Don't Walk Away

_Poseidon's POV _

The ocean was restless today—as was the sea god.

His colorful Hawaiian shirt flapped in the sudden gust of cold wind, as he lowered himself into a sitting position on the warm sand of the beach. He often came to this spot whenever he needed time to be alone. To think, to wonder, to dream—whatever he needed to do on his own, he came here.

Not many mortals stayed long here, even though there was always an old log cabin with a nice view of the ocean here. But he was fortunate for this—the more he was alone, the better.

The setting sun, the cloudless sky, and the sound of the waves crashing into the rocks set off a breathtaking picture, but he was in no mood to appreciate beauty.

Combing his rich black hair with his fingers, he looked out to the stunning sunset and sighed. Being a god was hard, no matter what the myths said. The worst part was the feeling of doom (as he liked to call it) he would feel at times.

The feeling that he was trapped with no way out.

He was screaming and no one could hear him—or even cared. Sometimes he even envied mortals, for at least they get some sort of closure to life. They could finally be at peace after living a life of hardship. But he had to stay and live forever and ever in this cursed world.

He had seen too many of his mortal children perish into the afterlife in some of the most painful ways possible, and the memories of some of the more horrific deaths still haunted him at times. He often wished to visit them in the underworld, but his ego got in the way and he refused to set foot in his brother's domain—or worse—ask for a favor.

Even if they weren't his children, he still had to witness terrible deaths at sea nearly every day. Sailors going overboard, children drowning, passengers freezing in the icy water (oh, he'll never forget Titanic!)—and he had to let it be. He knew the sea brought much good to the world, but he also knew the suffering it had and will always cause. He was the sea.

He hadn't noticed that the sky had changed from the light pink and orange haze to a now grey and almost black mist until he heard the thunder crack. He snapped out of his reverie, and realized that he had been gone from home for too long. At least Zeus was as miserable as he was.

Sighing again, he stood from his spot on the beach and tried to remind himself there were good things that came with being a god.

He was half way in the water when he heard a blood curdling scream, not too far away, calling to him. He turned toward the sound of the scream, and saw a young woman. Even form a distance it was obvious she was drowning.

He stood in his place in the water, and watched her struggle for breathe. She was very beautiful, this girl who will be dead in a few minutes. He frowned and wondered if the Fates were teasing him. Sending him an image of a beautiful woman drowning right when he was thinking of all of the deaths at sea he was sick of witnessing!

And then it hit him.

Almost as if a one of Zeus' own thunderbolts had smacked him at that moment.

He knew nothing good ever came from interfering with the lives of mortals, but after all, he was as restless and as changing as the sea. He was the sea.

And he didn't care about the rules.

Diving into the water, he willed his powers over the sea to calm the waves crashing against her, and to pull him toward her. Once in reaching distance, he circled his arms around her thin waist and realized that she had already lost consciousness.


	2. Dwelling on Dreams

**Please accept my **_**deepest**_** apologies in the tardiness of this chapter. I usually have a piece all planned out before publishing, but with this one I just published the first thing that came to mind. Well, you can imagine what happened next. Writer's block. Yep. **

**But, no, I will not **_**ever**_** abandon my stories! So, here's chapter 2! Once again—sorry. **

Just Don't Walk Away

Chapter 2: Dwelling on Dreams

_Sally's POV_

All she felt was pain. An agonizing pain coming from every fiber of her being. Her strength didn't even exceed enough for her to wonder who this mysterious man watching her was. All she wanted was rest, but with rest came the dreams.

Ever since she had awakened from her coma, she had been battling with her eyelids, _willing_ them to stay open, so she will be spared from another fitful sleep. When the mysterious man had noticed that she had regained consciousness, he had told her that she needed as much rest as possible. She wanted to answer him and explain why she would rather stay awake, but the moment her lips parted he shoved a spoonful of…_something_ into her mouth.

Sally felt her tongue burn from contact with the mysterious soup, but when she had tried to spit it out, a cloth was gently placed over her lips, so she was forced to swallow it.

The burning sensation burned bitter as it made its descent through her throat. Sally cringed at the taste of it. Never before had she had anything even similar to the soup the man had served her, and she hoped never again.

She could still feel the taste of it in her mouth, but she felt something different too. A blanket of sudden and intense drowsiness was enfolding her. She tried to look at the man before her, but soon his image faded to darkness. And the darkness faded to chaos.

Ever since her parents had died in that fateful airplane accident, Sally Jackson had had the same dream every night.

It would start out perfect. Her dream-self would be smiling at a small child. She was sure it was the same child each time, even though she had never seen him before in her life. The child would wave at her, smiling and laughing as well. A sense of happiness and celebration would always overtake her dream-self then.

They—the child and herself-were always in some sort of field. A field of wheat, a field of grass—sometimes they were standing on the ocean. But every time—_every_ time—darkness would overtake the happy picture.

Monsters of every shape and size imaginable conjured all at once from thin air. None of them seemed to even notice her—they had eyes only for the small child. All of the happiness her dream-self had felt earlier was gone and were replaced with a sense of overwhelming dread.

The child was frightened tremendously and before it could even scream, they all were upon him. Ripping his limbs, sinking their teeth into his flesh, snarling and baring their teeth at him to make him scream. And she could only watch. Her dream-self always tries to move her legs, but to no avail. The horrible image would continue, until the child was gone. Not even a drop of blood remained. She would always awake when the yellow of the monsters' eyes turned to her.

She would always wake in a pool of cold sweat. Sometimes it took her minutes to remember where she was. The dream had been getting more and more vivid as time went on, and no amount of sleep medicine had ever helped her.

Sally often wondered if it was some sort of sign—but the more sane part of her always pushed that thought away as soon as it was considered by her less-than-sane part.

But tonight was different.

For the first night in all her years of dreaming the same dream, the child was spared from the monsters. But instead of standing on a field of wheat or a field of grass they stood on a field of blood.

_Blood from countless other victims. _

_The blood was pouring from all directions, and Sally realized that she was in a room—not a field. The room was quickly filling with blood, and her and the horrified child were trying everything to escape. _

_But, there was no escape from this. _

_They were up to their necks in blood when Sally gave up. What use is it? _

_But the child continued to search and search for a way out. He was determined to be free of all the blood suffocating him. _

_Sally could hear a cold, dark chuckle coming from above as the blood continued to rise. An unknown voice filled with uncontrollable laughter bellowed: "Fools! You can't escape the blood on your heads!"_

Sally awoke before she let out the scream. Realizing it was one of her nightmares she sighed and gently laid her head against the pillow again, relief filling her. To this day, she can still hear the hidden man's voice filled with laughter ringing in her ears during her worst nightmares. It would be years before she discovered who had sent her the dream and why.

But until that day came, Sally Jackson lived in confusion—but that was only the beginning of her destiny.

She was about to discover what the Fates have planned for mortals who pull the heartstrings of the gods…and in this case, the sea god.

**I am very fascinated with the topic of dreams. No one has (and probably ever will) truly understand them, and that's what I find intriguing. But, as Dumbledore said, "It does not do well to dwell on dreams." **


End file.
